Poetry

Saturday, 7 November 2020

Covid Coracles 4 -Corvidness

 Ravens and Rooks keep the castle

They hold the castle keep

But the black crows, in thorny rows

Can catch no feather bed sleep


They chatter and they cajole

They caterwaul and holla

They cat-call through the wooded deep

And in the tree trunk hollow


They scratch and they nuzzle

nibble and they peck

They pick fights with black night

Until the owl turns on her neck


Until the cows have all come home

Until they roam and roost in loam

And clay and mud and sticky chrome

Yellow of metallic piss


Yet the hill fort still squawks and portcullis

Gates are dropping

The drawbridge is drawn above the moat

And the Bishop's eyes are popping


The Egrets stalk about the cows

The herons pose alongside crows

Pretending in their statue clothes

To stand for liberty and freedom


But under them the corn storks do not grow

They rot after their heads have rolled

And all lie down like dominoes

Arranged like iron filings


And who is the rich magnet

Who has attracted their maze gaze?

Who has got them singing

Amazing grace?

Is it Trump or Biden?


Is it just that like the corn

They now must lie down

To rest after summer's vitalness

Into a winter of repose

In order to be again reborn

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